<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>love with every stranger (the stranger the better) by my_infinite_variety</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23481961">love with every stranger (the stranger the better)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_infinite_variety/pseuds/my_infinite_variety'>my_infinite_variety</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tumblr prompts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - 101 Dalmatians Fusion, Human Derek Hale, Human Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Meet-Cute, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Stiles Stilinski Likes Derek Hale, Strangers, Tumblr Prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:09:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,066</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23481961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_infinite_variety/pseuds/my_infinite_variety</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous asked:<br/>101 Dalmatians!AU where Derek and Stiles meet via tangled leashes and have to thwart an evil fashion mogul who wants to buy and skin their puppies</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>tumblr prompts [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689361</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>love with every stranger (the stranger the better)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i wrote the first part and i might continue it, but for now it's finished.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles had been sitting at the piano for what felt like hours, the chords at his fingertips and the words on the paper in front of him not quite fitting together. It was upsetting, to be so close to finished and yet so far. A persistent series of barks came from the front door and he couldn’t help but smile. Pongo was ready for his daily walk and that meant Stiles was granted a reprieve from being hunched over the piano like a hermit. </p><p>“Coming, boy,” he murmured, sliding the fallboard down over the piano keys gently. He swung his legs over the bench and stood, stretching toward the sky and sighing in relief when a string of pops went down his spine. The barking hadn’t stopped, not for a moment, and he hurriedly pulled on his jacket and frayed beanie that had seen one too many encounters with Pongo’s teeth.  He hooked his dalmatian up to his leash and they set out onto the streets of the city, Pongo pulling on his leash like their usually leisurely walk wasn’t fast enough.</p><p>Pongo swerved through strangers and tugged him down the familiar paths, Stiles practically stumbling behind him. The speckled dog was stubborn, to say the least, and Stiles’ feeble protests of “slow down” and “be patient” fell on deaf ears. He was too focused on his goal, it seemed. </p><p>A woman caught Stiles’ attention, her hair a deep red and her dog sporting the same color. She looked like someone who read poetry in a cafe of some sort, but before Stiles could strike up a conversation or contemplate her appearance Pongo tugged him further down the path. She was out of sight within moments.</p><p>Then Stiles’ stubborn bastard of a canine stopped in his tracks, nearly making his human knock him over. It was like whatever Pongo had been frantically searching for had either slipped his mind or he’d found it. Stiles didn’t know which one he wished it was. They continued at a normal pace, one that Stiles was used to, and they stopped near the pong like they always did for a bit of a rest. </p><p>It was nice to get a bit of fresh air and sit in the grass like he was a kid again, when things were simpler. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, relished in the breeze brushing his face and ruffling his jacket. Then, as if Pongo hadn’t already earned his title as a handful, the silly dog snatched Stiles’ beanie straight from the top of his head and bounded away like they were playing a game. </p><p>Stiles, who was in an awkward position on his stomach, didn’t know whether to laugh or scold Pongo. Then he dropped the beanie on a bench next to the most beautiful man Stiles had ever seen. All Stiles wanted to do then was hide his face and moan from embarrassment. The man, dressed in fitted dress clothes and holding the leash to a beautiful dalmatian of his own in one hand and a book in the other, made eye contact with Stiles for a brief moment and it was enough to stop Stiles’ heart in his chest.</p><p>He was dark-haired and he had a beard, well cared for and thick. He looked like a body-builder if body-builders wore slim-fit slacks, glasses, and shirts with buttons that looked like they were going to burst. This stranger was exactly Stiles’ type, and he was getting up and walking away. Stiles scrambled to his feet and retrieved both his dog and his hat. He told himself to give Pongo a good talking to later, but for now his brain was mush. </p><p>“We’re going home, Pongo,” he mumbled, his tongue feeling a bit heavy in his mouth, but Pongo was having none of it. He fought with a fury to get away and eventually ended up dragging his poor, scatterbrained owner down the path until they reached the beautiful man that had done the brain scattering.</p><p>Pongo cut the dark-haired man off and Stiles realized too late what was going on. Within seconds, the brunette and the raven-haired stranger’s legs were tangled together and held by Pongo’s red leash. He looked extremely proud of himself and Stiles vowed to never give him treats again.</p><p>“I’m so sorry!” Stiles exclaimed, keeping his hands up and away from the person he was wound up with to avoid any awkward contact. The stranger, obviously trying to avoid falling onto the gravel path, gripped Stiles’ shoulders.</p><p>“Crap─”</p><p>“Let go─”</p><p>“I’m try─”</p><p>“Wait!”</p><p>There was a sickening ripping sound and then the two of them were soaked from head to toe in pond water, untangled but clearly in a much worse situation. The two dalmatians stood at the edge of the pond, one carrying a strip of cloth and both of them curious about the proceedings but not willing to jump in and help anytime soon. Stiles couldn’t find it within himself.</p><p>The stranger Stiles had dragged into the water struggled to his feet, muttering under his breath about interviews and ruined clothes. There was a hole in the back of his shirt and Stiles mourned the death of such a beautiful item of clothing. In fact, the mourning probably delayed his trip back to dry land.</p><p>“I’m so sorry,” Stiles tried when they stumbled from the pond, flustered and desperately wishing this was all a dream. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’d never acted like this before. Really. No other pond accidents on his record except for─”</p><p>“Just go away,” the dark-haired stranger said gruffly, turning away and digging into his pocket to retrieve a clearly broken phone. “You’ve done enough.”</p><p>Stiles, not quite knowing what to do and acting out of instinct, dug his own phone out of his pocket and held it out. “You can use mine if you need.”</p><p>It was as soaking wet as the rest of the things he’d been carrying with him, the screen covered in new spiderweb cracks. Stiles’ cheeks heated in embarrassment and he dropped his gaze, his hand lowering. Then something amazing happened. </p><p>The stranger started laughing.</p><p>Stiles joined in and eventually, the two of them were hunched over, clutching onto each other’s shoulders for support as each laugh dragging air from their lungs. Suddenly the trip to the park didn’t seem so bad.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>don't forget to leave a comment and/or kudos!<br/>leave your own requests on my tumblr (myinfinitevariety.tumblr.com)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>